NEW YORK — Step through the doors of the Park Avenue Armory today and you’ll join a DIY expedition to Mars that’s part hard science, part Capricorn One. With new installation Space Program: Mars, sculptor Tom Sachs and his team of 13 astro-artists have crafted an otherworldly fantasy out of common materials, assembling the components of a space program out of readily available materials bought at hardware stores or salvaged from the streets.

Space Program: Mars, which opens Wednesday, consists of 50 sculptures, five films and countless zines, which took Sachs and his studio hands three years to create. With the sprawling installation, they’ve attempted to fashion all the life-sustaining gear that would be necessary for humans’ colonization and scientific exploration of Mars, from a food-delivery conveyor belt and an astronaut gym to systems for waste disposal and even a Mars rover. Tucked away amid the exhibit’s simulated launch and capsule-gathering scenarios, visitors will find a few Sachs staples: a place for his tea ceremony and for a signature Jack Daniel’s bottle.

But really, Space Program: Mars isn’t about space. It’s about life on Earth.

“We have to consider how we interact with it,” Sachs said Tuesday, introducing the second phase of his Space Program series. The exhibit considers what we bring with us when we explore new frontiers: What germs do we transport, what parts of our culture do we share and, perhaps most importantly, what do we draw from the experience?

“Earth has been around long enough for slime to turn into things that talk about slime.”

“Science is a comparative act,” said Sachs. “We look to Mars to analyze ourselves. “Earth has been around long enough for slime to turn into things that talk about slime.”

The sculptor considers carefully the complicated relationship that humans have with their environment by looking at the dark side of the space program, conjuring up images of colonialism and American pioneerism, all set to the backdrop of the Park Avenue Armory’s stunning and historic Wade Thompson Drill Hall, where decadent galas and balls have hosted everyone from the Queen Mother to the Kennedys.

Throughout Space Program: Mars, Sachs’ team members — dressed as astronauts or in NASA lab outfits — continuously alter and fix the works, reapplying a strip of duct tape here or fixing a nail there, to show the continuous nature of the artistic process. The reason for this, said Sachs, is to continue the practice of bricolage, the construction of artwork from a wide range of materials that happen to be available.

“We hope to share our view of transparency. We paint everything before we cut, so you can see the cut. The issues of the way things are made will come to life through the work.”

Sachs is indeed a master of the bricolage practice, and with Space Program: Mars’ spacesuits, it’s hard to tell from a distance that they aren’t real. Sachs was described by co-curator Kristy Edmonds as an artist with an “encyclopedic knowledge” of these materials, as well as the subject matter of NASA.

The installation is part serious, part humorous — there’s a Red Beans and Rice Preparation station, and many of the processes have been miniaturized — but it’s all thoughtful, revealing Sachs’ expert knowledge about space travel.

“We’re having a bit of our own space race with NASA,” he said. “But we’ll find life on Mars right here in the Armory.”